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Directive 51

11/15/2021 12:57 PM 

No Count

Name: UnknownCall sign: No Count. Patch the Good Luck. Patches the Hyena. Trusty Patches. Unbreakable Patches. Patches the Spider. Lapp. (Jesus. Who the hell is this guy?)ShD status: Active agent...?Ethnicity: CaucasianNationality: British. (Has been granted American citizenship.)Occupation: N/AAge:34Height:5'11Weight:184This former mercenary has more history on the field of battle than most. His favored combat strategy is to snipe from the air or from concealed locations to catch his opponents off guard. Before joining the Division, he was a member of the organization known as "Stray Bullet". He was usually tasked with killing influencial businessmen and politicians. His old team described him as: Secretive, complacent, abusive and provocative.Patches is a con-artist with a lack of value for human life, tricking wayward people. He is notably a scavenger, who enjoys setting traps for unsuspecting survivors, often using their greed against them to lure them to their demise and loot their corpse. When cornered he will attempt to beg and lie his way out of a situation.This agent was admired by friends and enemies alike, for his skills were unmatched, and his heart was true as gold. Anyone who joins his team has quite the shoes to fill..He is quite the character, and agent. Boasting the best skills for: long-range marksmanship, survival, manipulation, and charismatic leadership.Equipment:He carries the standard PPE of Agents and tech given to them...Tech:Decoy x5Shock trap x5Two turrets, assault and shockPulse with Jammer and hacker.Weapons:His main weapon is a custom sniper rifle he built: Nemesis.Nemesis does not have any real life counterpart, it most closely resembles an Accuracy International Arctic Warfare in an AICS 2.0 pistol grip chassis with an AX50 stock. The rail is similar to CADEX Defense AI Fore-End Rail. Foregrip is a Magpul AFG-2.It holds a 5+1 round magazine and fires .338 Lupa Magnum Rounds.Maxim 9 handgun. (Great gun with a built in silencer/suppressor)Tactical UMP-45 with a suppressorCombat knife

Directive 51

11/15/2021 12:45 PM 

Phoenix Down

Name: Doug SuttonCall Sign: NoneOccupation: N/ANationality: AmericanEthnicity: CaucasianHeight: 5'11Weight: 180Hair color: BrownEye color: BrownShD Status: Deceased (Active)Doug Sutton was a First Wave Division agent. He was most notably part of Noble Squad. Like the rest of his squad, he is first seen in an ECHO as he and his squadmates help a man from being mugged. He was the sole survivor of his squad, whereas the others were slaughtered by Rikers in an ambush. In another ECHO, it is revealed his squad mate, Akil Hoopster, was the last one to be alive as he told him the whereabouts of the Rikers that had killed his companions before succumbing to his wounds. He vowed revenge against the Rikers that killed his squad mates. He then took it upon himself to rescue April Kelleher who was captured by the same gang of Rikers. Doug managed to save her, but ultimately died in the process. Doug's body can be seen with a cloth draped over it next to his final ECHO location implying that she survived and covered his body as seen by his division styled gear.Before his death Doug, was a seasoned scout with a desire to help the citizens of New York during the outbreak. He was seen as a good guy.  Skills: Expert Tracker, scout and marksman.Made of steel: Before his death, Doug took many wounds that would have stopped the average Agent in their tracks. He managed to kill several Rikers while bleeding to death.PPE: Doug carried all of the standard gear of Agents.Tech: Sticky LauncherPulse ScannerSeeker MineWeapons: M4A1Secondary: Super 90 shotgunSidearm: Police M9 

Directive 51

11/15/2021 12:21 PM 

Vanguard

Name: Aaron KeenerCall Sign: VanguardOccupation: Future TradersNationality: AmericanEthnicity: CaucasianAge: 34Height: 5'10Weight: 179 Hair color: BrownEye color: GreenShD Status: RogueAaron Keener believes he is the best of the best and indispensable. He is a master manipulator, who knows how to get people to do what he wants and make them think it was their idea. Secretly, he is terrified of being considered as irrelevant, and instead chooses to make himself notorious.Aaron attended The Citadel, a Military College of South Carolina, before serving in the military. He served on a tour of duty at Camp Lemonnier in Djibouti and has a mild reputation as a "Fobbit", which is a soldier who spends most of his service away from the front line and serving sentry duty at Forward Operating Bases in the battlefield.Keener is noted to combine his military experience and his extensive decision-making expertise to achieve extensive success in the private sector. Upon leaving the military, Keener took up a job on Wall Street as a successful future's trader. Aaron Keener has been labelled to be adaptable and very confident, where he always assumes that he is going to come out on top. This makes him borderline arrogant.Aaron Keener has been divorced twice, and he maintains friendly relationships with both of his ex-wives. One of them has even described Aaron Keener as too much work to keep up with.Aaron Keener has a very privileged upbringing and has never faced real adversity during his youth. However, he has been able to always overcome any obstacle in his life through a combination of his indomitable willpower and advanced.Personality: Aaron Keener is a man whose trauma which he received in the Dark Zone in Manhattan had turned him into a delusional clinical sociopath. Able to easily manipulate those around him into doing what he wants them and always preferring to be on the most successful side of a situation. His desertion of the Division, followed by leaving the LMB to be destroyed, show that Keener is only loyal to his own ambitions. This is exemplified in one of the game's ECHO logs in the United Nations building, where the footage shows Keener eliminating members of the LMB and ordering two rogue agents to remain behind to stall the player long enough to allow Keener to escape New York's quarantine zone and take Tchernenko with him.He is also willing to try to manipulate the same agent who has been hounding him across New York City. In the final ECHO log involving Keener, he mentions that the agent is as efficient and willing to do what is necessary as Keener, and that if the agent is so willing, then perhaps they would be willing to join with Keener.Superior Conditioning: Like all Division Agents, Aaron Keener has shown to have the exact levels of physical attributes as any Division Agent or any Hunter. However, due to him being a "prototypical candidate" for the Division, he is more stronger, resilient, faster and coordinated than the average Division Agent. This has contributed to his high confidence and borderline arrogance.Gifted Intelligence: A key attribute that separates Aaron Keener from other Division Agents is extraordinary intellect which is combined with his great decision-making skills and critical anticipation skills. This made him a prototypical candidate for the Division.Financial Analyst: Prior to the Outbreak in New York, Aaron Keener worked as a very successful Futures Trader on Wall Street. Aaron states that this contributed to his critical thinking and how he sees the current situation as a "balance sheet". This helps him calculate and decide who is best to be killed, who is best to be kept living and who is best to be his ally.Master Strategist: By observing the Division Agent's progress, he quickly anticipated the inevitable defeat of the Last Man Battalion and had formulated a plan to employ into action after he had patiently waited for the Division Agents to assault the United Nation's Building, he kidnapped Dr. Vitaly Tchernenko, Dr. Amherst's equipment and with his fellow rogue agents he had departed from the city.Manipulative Charisma: A key attribute to Keener's manipulative success is that he uses the truth and realism to manipulate people. He was able to use this to sway many first wave agents to his side and even establish himself as a high ranking member of the Last Man Battalion. He was even able to sway Vitaly into creating the Eclipse Virus, sway Theo into creating the Rogue Network, sway other many Division Agents into joining his Rogue faction.Tactical Combatant: Like all Division Agents, Aaron Keener is a masterful combatant, particularly in tactical combat. He was able to take on an entire battalion of Rikers on his own all the while protecting civilians from danger, which he inevitably failed to do so. He was also able to engage multiple foes to the LMB as well as Rioters without breaking a sweat. Aaron Keener showed his true tactical combat abilities when he was able to single-highhandedly hold his own against a group of Division Agents.S.H.D. Technologies: Like all Division Agents, Aaron Keener has SHD Technology, which gives them first aid equipment, seeker mines and turret guns, hacking protocols, assault drones, chem launchers, stinger hives etc...SHD Tech Jamming: Unlike most Rogue Agents and all Division Agents, Aaron Keener has specialized EMP technology which is used only by him. It allows him to disable the SHD Tech of his enemies, thus taking away their greatest tactical advantage in any combat situation.Technology Hacking: Unlike most Division Agents, Aaron Keener is capable of rapidly hacking into complex technology systems thanks to the technological developments of Theo Parnell. He was even able to hack into the Black Tusk's Marauder Drone as well as their Warhounds. He could also automatically control and deploy assault drones, turret, hives and seeker mines whenever he wanted.Bio-Organic Weaponry: Thanks to the research and special technology of the late Gordon Amherst as well as the virology expertise of Dr. Vitaly Tchernenko, Aaron Keener finally had access to the Eclipse Virus, a bio-weapon which is more deadlier, more unstable and more fast acting than the Green Poison. He even entrusted stock piles of the Eclipse Virus to his Rogue Agent Cells.PPE: Aaron carries the same standard PPE of Agents. Tech: Drone AssaultTurret AssaultPulse (Jammer and "Hacker")Sticky LauncherSeeker MineWeapons: Keener was a Rogue Agent armed with a Police M4, CMMG Banshee, six  Concussion Grenades.

Directive 51

11/15/2021 09:12 PM 

Ryan's dossier

Name: Jack RyanCall Sign: NoneOccupation: N/ANationality: AmericanEthnicity: Caucasian Age: 35Height: 5'11Weight: 184Hair color: BrownEye color: HazelShD status: ActiveRyan is a perfectionist. If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right, and that includes tackling ObtainR. He hews to the straight and narrow and plays by the rules. That’s true even in the wildest of situations; Ryan always has a guideline to look to and follow.Dogs tend to act different without their leash.Aaron Keener: Normally, I'd do this face to face, but I'm not 100% sure which way you'll jump. You act one way when Ms. Lau is watching and another way entirely when you're off the leash. That's an interesting contradiction.Other Agents joke about Ryan’s demeanor it an affectionate way, as he is highly regarded among those who responded to the call. In the field, however, there’s no joking, as Ryan’s courage under fire is well known. He’s a natural leader, cool under fire, and willing to sacrifice to get the mission done.Jerry Liu: Lemme tell you, that agent Faye Lau brought in with her is the real deal. [...] Between you and me, you don't see that sort of performance out of every agent. Still don't.His skills in combat even surpass Aaron Keener, the prototyical Agent who is noted as being perfect.PPE: Ryan carries the standard items Agents use while on missions.Tech: Sticky LauncerSeeker MinePulse ScannerMain weapon: M4 CarbineSecondary weapon: Super 90 ShotgunSidearm: PF45

Drift & Dread

11/14/2021 08:47 PM 

Rishekya Ulric
Current mood:  adventurous

***General Info***Name: Rishekya UlricAge: 26Appearance:A height of 6ft and 2in, Voluptous & Buxom figure w/ Scars, Toned muscles, Crimson red locks with her outfit varies by genre.Personality: A rational thinker with questions to often ask, in tranquil moments, she appreciates the time and company of solitude as well as others. Enduring a child/teen-hood for being a black sheep in various areas for a woman. Those experiences would develop this redhead as an easygoing, but critical. Calm, but vigilant. Tolerant, but forward that it may backfire. In a dire situations, she feels half of the dread, fear, anxiety and all else while faced with a problematic scenario. With a nature of thick skinned with the cliché turnabout that she'll feel emotional when it comes to witnessing others in difficulty.Race:Human/Caucasian & Amazonian???Preferred Rp lengths: Para/Multi-para/Length Matching.(The better and passionate the replies, the more you'll get out of me!)***Slice of Life/Modern RP particulars***Under the circumstance that Rishekya's Adventure lore (Section below) is not considered. There's is a different version of herself, without a proper explanation for it.Life story:Recently returning from serving time in the Military, she would return to her hometown and realizing that her relatives had moved without a trace or so much as letting her know. Though, she was never close to her family that they wouldn't invite her for anything; hoping that a few years passing by would allow the redhead and family to re-connect while acting like mature adults, alas that was not the case. This sort of treatment is thanks to Rishekya being a bastard child to a one night stand couple that meant both sides of the family would alienate her. Things weren't pleasant for her childhood until she was taken under child services and placed into an orphanage, but she outgrew the program and settled to make a living for herself and take her experiences to not repeat for another to suffer. She has become the listener type that will hear your problems out and rather than discuss it out, she does her best to be good and enjoyable company that you can get your mind off of it. Though if you ask for her opinions she will answer. Believing that actions have more power than words; having been betrayed and set aside, she takes things for face value and keeps her expectations very low.She is able to fit herself in any situation and often thinks outside the box along with keeping the conversation fresh. Why she originally joined the military for 5 years was to refresh her perspective on life and coincidentally be introduced to the vast world we live that shapes her open-mindedness. Knowing that others have it easier or harder than us.***Adventure/Action RP Data***Backstory:Returning from an escort that meant Cross Kingdom partnerships came to gruesome halt as the entire group was Assassinated, only for the Redhead to black out and wake up in the middle of Town Square where she was framed for killing the King and his children. Where this rumor started is a mystery, but it led to her ex-communication from her home town. Months after traversing with no answers, she would return in the hopes to savor the kingdom landscape to fund ruins and distraught. No victim survived: Family, Friends, Acquaintance, Soldiers, Business owners and Royal Family. With never being able to redeem herself for her home, she wanders with a loss of purpose and accepts the lowest ranks of bounties just to meal and stay fed for the day. Slowly her appearance grew worse from sadness and lack of productivity, her armor rusted, her weapons dull and hygiene was occasionally taken care of. Without knowing, she eagers to find companions to lift her up and gladly lift them up to find meaning in her life. Where will she go, what will she do? Could someone listen and pass on some wisdom for this lonesome redhead?Addition to the plot:You as her companion begin to experience her lifestyle of many outcomes. Slowly more and more of the truth begins to come out. There will be things you didn't see coming, there will be some things that Rishekya did not see coming. Might as well put this out there, she rubs off certain elements about her that slowly become a hindrance to the general crowd, this element has been weaponized by the military of her kingdom. She will devote loyalty and good word about the same place that kicked her out, memory is hazy for the critical parts, but what she will recall is fond memories, but she will never list names of her past people. That's because she can't, why? You'll see. A story influenced by other stories of tragedy events. If you happen to be curious and want the truth spoiled, I'll happily tell you, if you're curious, you're in for a ride. You as a role-player have power to influence her way of thinking since she relies on you for social comfort. Your morals and outlook on life will be questioned.It will hurt to get closer to her than being companions.Occupation:•Exiled-Royal Knight from the Kingdom of "Drixlexya"•Freelancer Bounty HunterOutfit: Blend of Warrior and Knight apparel•Bear-skinned coat•Polyester-Insulated light full suit•Taped bosom, abs and feet•Steel arm/thigh/head bracers•Strong Leather Top and Bottoms, black and white designs•Feathers stuck to hair•Bear scar on the ChestSuperpower: Peak FuerzaCapable of enhancing parts of her body which include the 11 organ systems: the integumentary system, skeletal system, muscular system, lymphatic system, respiratory system, digestive system, nervous system, endocrine system, cardiovascular system, urinary system (Will not tap into... ever), and reproductive systems(*wink wink*). The downside is releasing this power crashes the inflicted body part like a caffeine rush.Magical Prowess:•Rishekya does not possess any magical powers nor passives. However, her arsenal has capabilities more leaning on the defense and support side. The Bear was a unique variant that was capable of absorbing and counter attacking with the magic type that harmed it. The fur is genetically special to resist most magical types by 25%. While the skin is thin, yet resist to blunt, strike and pierce attacks.•The Polyester-Insulated suit grants a fatigue/weight reduction and movement increase across the board, due to redhead's large assets this is a major plus, while resistant to conducting electricity by 15%; the story behind this suit was a Legendary bird that could cast electricity to send shockwaves to lakes for its food. Naturally resistant to Electro.•"Reflectoria" is a large great sword that requires two hands and weights around 70 to 80 pounds. This was discovered in one of Rishekya's dungeon hunting, myths speak of a sword that was perfectly crafted with the hardest alloys and a Dragon's scales that had mirror-like substances; which resulted in a weapon that could reflect magic. But the weapon will have residue and splash damage, leaving behind a bigger area of ruin. Not to mention it's capable of passing on elemental effects such as burn, frost, acidic, shocking to the wielder.Criminal Background:•Framed with Assassination & Treason•Disturbance of the PeaceMain Arsenal:•Great-sword (2 handed & shields the front)•Taped Fists/Knees with Brass Knuckles/Kneecaps on-top•Large Bear-skinned coat w/ a Shield underneath (Only shields her back)•Aluminum, Whiplash laced with adhesive (Meant for sticking and ripping pieces off)•Steel toed boots and headband for HeadbuttsSoft skills:Self motivator/starter, Steadfast, Critical thinker, Whimsical, Social butterfly, Keeps it RealHard skills:Weapon maintenance, construction, Negotiator, Grade-A Bounty Hunter, Tech-savvyWeaknesses:Requires detailed instructions, Easily distracted, Too Forward, Incompetent peopleOverall stats:ATK: ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆DEF: ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆MAG ATK: _ (Only Reflectoria reflects attack w/ 1.25x increase)  MAG DEF: ⋆ ⋆⋆(+2⋆ for Bear coat & Poly suit each)SPD: ⋆⋆⋆ ⋆(+1⋆ for Poly suit)CHARM: ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

𝓡𝓐𝓓𝓘𝓐𝓝𝓒𝓔

11/14/2021 07:42 PM 

Prompt: Climb.
Current mood:  adventurous

    Brave the thin lofty air, lone beauty. The icy lick stings what lovely flesh is ever so bare to nuzzle on. Reach up to rocky ledges, thick or thin, and be inches or a foot higher than before. Keep those feet steady; cling on what nook or cranny there is to plant them on, lest entertain a long and horrific fall. Do not look down.   This upward exploit is a dare is out of desire or perhaps duty. This living doll in rags, even with only a little spill of words to proclaim from prior days to weeks, must seek to make an audience with someone or something that the world below would definitely deem as celestial. Whether the myth is indeed real or utter hokum, she will discover quite soon. She hopes, sorely so, that it is the former eventuality.   The climb is indeed hard. What food in her belly is lesser in its nourishing fuel for her to keep going. Her limbs writhe. Her ankles and palm are sore. Her breath from rosy lips behind an old olive-tinted cloth is weak and desperate. But she must—she simply must keep on climbing!   The peak seems closer or so her eyes are imagining it to be. She pauses for a bit, reconvening her thoughts and maybe dropping a soft gulp too. Almost there. Up one grabbing hand after another. Her right hand nearly slips as the next ledge is brittle and what morsel of earth to hold onto just crumbles! She squeaks from sudden shock and dread! But soon, her loose hand founds another corner to cling onto. Deep breaths. Climb some more.   She can see something green as grass just yards above her. Not just such a lush patch but a wider ledge akin to a cave opening. How odd that the air is quite fair again, albeit still a bit cold. She pays little mind to this curiosity and pulls herself, one limb at a time, to reach that great hole above, longing to end this climb.   The lone miss drags herself up and into a slim tunnel, rolling herself to soon lie on her back. She gasps a few times, her voice so sultry with each puff. After two minutes being prone at the entry, she turns her gaze upon the slim tunnel ahead. The light from the other side is not only close, it she can make out a form there. Another upward path. Slowly, she helps herself up. Tired as she may be, she must go on. Her stroll is careful. Quite thoughts are deliberating with each other regarding where this new path will lead her to. Once out of the cave, she is met with a set of large spiral stairs of earth and moss. Almost there. Or so she still hopes.   After nearly five minutes go up, making her well on narrow serpentine roads and one wide shallow hill, she is treated to a stellar sight. Those greenish-blue eyes nearly glimmer not just from the smiling sun but this grand plain above white clouds. Other peaks can be seen from the distance, some beyond a mile away from where she stands. One who yearns for adventure would achingly adore being in this breathtaking realm. Savor the splendor with what the senses can spare.  The doll in rags lets out a soft joyful gasp from the transcendent thrill of what she is witnessing. Living legends of scale soaring the skies. Nearly hundreds of them. They are beautiful, dancing around in this large ballroom of highwind, away from the world below. The myth is real. Take a deep a sweet breath, red-haired lass. As much as it is fondest to just stare at these elder lords of the skies, there is a duty for her to fulfill. Now, another climb awaits for her to undertake. A different one. Speak with one of these lofty legends and humbly ask for their mighty aid.  aniroleplay/543906  

ᴡᴀʀʙɪʀᴅ

11/14/2021 05:44 PM 

2:14 PM

“What happened to you? It’s been…years since I last saw you. Since you last sent a letter. Dispatched a message. Sent a text. Something?” Monica grimaces, turning from her glass to Carol sitting beside her at the bar. It’s a small establishment within her Louisiana hometown, Monica returning after the disaster of the Maximoff anomaly was resolved, still adjusting to her new abilities, and seeing Carol for the first time in too long.She’s dressed in simple worn, comfortable jeans and a casual top, much like Carol, and drinking a clear carbonated drink. The bartender added a sprig of mint as pizazz. It’s tactless and tasteless, like him; Monica has only taken two sips from it in the half hour they’ve been sitting here.“Where were you?” Monica continues. “I—I tried to contact you. Tried with Uncle Fury, with the Skrulls. No one could get a hold of you.” Her grip around the glass tightens as she hangs her head, the locks of kicky-curls purposely styled to hang from her updo screen her eyes.“There was… There was a lot of places, a lot of planets and its inhabitants that were displaced after—”“Don’t!” Monica hisses, her finger pointing accusatory, still holding her round, fat glass. “Don’t you say it’s because of The Blip! That ended five years ago. Even Talos and Skrulls far in the galaxy found time for a simple hello.”Carol’s tight-lipped expression colors with guilt, allowing Monica the space to vent while also knowing she’s in the wrong. She has difficulty looking Monica in the eyes when she turns to face her again.“I know that saving the universe is important and a heavy weight to carry—and believe me, I would do the same if I was in your position. But at the same time…you’re supposed to be my mom. Don’t I deserve some kind of recognition?”Carol studies the bar’s scratched, wooden surface underneath her folded arms, her face twisting further into a repentant frown. In the time she’s been gone, Earth has changed, new legislations have been written up worldwide, the love of her life passed away and Carol didn’t even know, and their little girl has grown up and is rightfully angry with her.She’s missed so much.How much more time will she lose, the lives of her loved ones passing her by?“I’m done, by the way,” Monica informs, vitriol thickly coating her words.Carol’s eyes close. When they open again, she’s captured by Monica’s awaiting glare. Monica, who’s her adopted daughter yet they appear so close in physical age they’re mistaken to be from the same generation—it happened when they entered this establishment. Her extended youth no longer humorous or flattering to Carol; it’s now an annoyance.Her hair is still cropped short and she still feels the energy of the Tesseract flowing through her veins—Carol feels frozen in time while the rest of her home world progresses.It feels like she’s blinked and her little girl has grown and excelled her expectations. She’s left to only imagine what Maria would say.Monica waits expectantly. Carol wishes she could rewind time to fill the years missed.“You’re right,” she begins, slowly. “You’re right. Ever since the mess with Thanos, I… I became so preoccupied with The Vanishing,” Carol uses the name coined by other alien civilizations. “The Blip,” she corrects, “That—”“That time just got away from you?” Monica fills, repeating the excuse her mother’s famous for using.“That I wanted to prevent something like that happening again, therefore endangering you,” Carol calmly corrects.

FallingStar

11/14/2021 05:11 PM 

☆Most Desired Ships and Plots☆

•The first 4 are in no particular order, any after them are less desired but still wanted. Big WIP. Please note, that even just a simple song or verse from a song can inspire a lot of these, or perhaps a bit of fanart. References for the plots inspiration will be listed with it.•   °Each pairing may include scenarios specific for them or a general idea adapted to fit each pair. Some scenarios may be detailed, others not.°   ▪︎Generic plot ideas:▪︎ 1A - Corrupted Aether - Aether has become corrupted by the Festering Desire, sporting purplish and black dragon features as he wanders aimlessly through Teyvat. He is capable of hiding this of course, but others are quick to notice the tinge of pinkish-purple in his eyes.   1B - Abyss Prince - Aether found Lumine, his powers becoming free once more. Though this time he did not just sit around and let her get away, no, this time he took her place. Putting her into a deep slumber until this world either crumbles or resolves its problems. He has taken command of the Abyss Order, ruling without contest and dismisses their active plot of revenge for Khaenri'ah. Instead, he plans on watching everything unfold on its own.  --His appearance for this scenario: Abyss Prince --   ¤Albedo x Aether¤ 1A - The Festering Desire has pulled the blonde to Dragonspine, wanting to absorb the power from the Dragon's remains. Naturally, he encounters Albedo as the Alchemist intercepts him with curiosity and worry at first. However Aether seems quite docile towards the ashen haired male, obediently doing whatever is asked of him, refusing to leave his side.  (Optional addition: Albedo becoming corrupted by Durin as well.)   ¤Xiao x Aether¤ 1A - WIP.   ¤Zhongli x Aether¤ 1A - WIP.   ¤Childe/Tartaglia x Aether¤ 1A - WIP.   ~~~~~~~   ¤Keaya x Aether¤ 1A - WIP.   1B - It has been over a year since Aether left to continue his adventures, his return to Mondstadt however was not as everyone expected. The Abyss was threatening to overrun the city when the golden haired male intervenes, furious with his own forces. He agrees to surrender to the Knights for interrogation and Keaya volunteers to keep him under watch personally. Aether reveals he knows perfectly well who the Cryo user is, the long lost Khaenri'ah Prince, as well as admitting he has harbored feelings towards the suave male.    ¤Diluc x Aether¤  1A - WIP.   ¤Venti x Aether¤  1A - WIP.   ¤Kazuha x Aether¤     ¤Dainsleif x Aether¤     ¤Scaramouche x Aether¤     ¤Xingqiu x Aether¤     ¤Chongyun x Aether¤     ¤Razor x Aether¤     ¤Bennet x Aether¤     ¤Baizhu x Aether¤

ukn

11/13/2021 01:38 PM 

prompt rules

  RP Prompt Rules; it's simple, don't break them. ╔═ Will-Not List ═╗Start a family with your muse • Kill your muse • Be killed by your muse • No Godmodding • Be blood related to your muse ๑ 1.꒱ I will wait exactly one week for a reply before sending a reminder. If I don't hear anything back by then, I will retire our roleplay. If you need more time simply tell me, I'm understanding. 2.꒱ Admittedly, I am stubborn when it comes to fighting. Because of the background I have given Taiga, there are very few circumstances in which he would lose a fight. If you would like to have an actual fight with my muse, I'd like to discuss the storyline beforehand so that if he ends up with a loss, it makes sense. 3.꒱ I will only be accepting a handful of roleplays in the beginning, and will only accept more either after some of mine are retired or I find myself being capable of handling more.4.꒱ I'll say it outright - I have not roleplayed in actual years and am definitely rusty when it comes to starting out. Please be patient with me, it may take me a bit to really get into it.5.꒱ My roleplay style is 1-3 paragraphs. Of course you can send more if you'd like, and if I'm feeling it I will as well. As of right now I can not do novella. I do not have the time, energy, or brain capacity to read and reply to something that long.  

ukn

11/13/2021 12:37 PM 

testt

  You say you've seen hell? — I LIVE IN IT Read my rules first.Let me know if you want to RP in messages, comments or discord.I will ask for your will-nots before sending you a starter. The only prompts that can be reversed are the ones listed as so.Bold text is for my muse.Teal text is for your muse.  I AM ONLY ACCEPTING 1-4 ROLEPLAYS AT THE MOMENT. °• 𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 •° ❖ 𝟭• “So how was your day at work?”          “You fụcking shot me! That was my day at work!” Your muse is either a part of law enforcement or in an enemy Yakuza gang (You pick). However, you’ve had a longtime personal connection with my muse prior and they both have to keep “just failing” to catch each other. When one of them hits the other in a shootout, it’s followed with “Oh, I'm never going to hear the end of this..”Can be reversed.   ❖ 2 • “Didn’t I kick you out already?”               “Yes, but-!”              “No. Out.” There is nothing more your muse wants than to join and be a part of the city’s most criminally dangerous Yakuza group. The thrill in danger entices you and you want to stand at the peak of its foundation..however, you don’t seem to quite get the hang of it. No matter how hard you try, things always seem to go wrong for you, and my muse is not having any of it. In order to finally live out your dream, you must convince my muse you can pry open the jaws of life and stand on your own. Good luck. ❖ 3 • “Small fire! I said to set a small fire! This is not small!” Your muse has just joined the Yakuza under a subgroup my muse is the leader of. You’ve been sent out on your first mission to dispose of an abandoned house that the group once pedaled drugs through. Your mission was to start a small fire to make it look like a random act of anarchist vandalism in order to burn away any evidence - except..you may have poured a bit too much gasoline. The fire is so big law enforcement is called and an investigation is now taking place. Oops.   °• 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 •° ❖ 4 • “We checked the recording, Boss. There was a third person there, but                                    the image is blurry.” To your surprise, a SWAT team breaks down your door, rushes inside and surrounds you. Only, their backs are to you, guns trained on the doors and windows. The closest one whispers, “Here they come.” Turns out your muse and whoever they were with, infiltrated an international drug trade that my muse was conducting. Your muse and their comrades raided the building and stole the goods that were supposed to be shipped out that same night. Although covered up to avoid being seen, my muse manages to capture the people involved..except for one. Your muse. Now my muse is on the hunt, and won’t stop until they’ve recovered what you’ve stolen.❖ 5 • “I wonder which will get you killed faster --- your loyalty or                                                     your stubbornness?” Your muse has been working/and or is hired by informants they’ve had connections to for quite a long time. They’ve sent you on a mission to receive something dangerous from a criminal organization, nothing too out of the ordinary..only this time their reasoning and directions are very vague. You are unfortunately caught by my muse while on your mission, and to your dismay find out those very people you trusted were the ones who set you up to begin with. It’s either you, or them. ❖ 6 • “Someday, you’ll thank me for kidnapping you.”Your muse has a set of skills that everyone wants..and I mean everyone. Whether it be your incredible computer hacking skills, your genius ability to make money, or the mere fact you’re an all knowing informant (You can pick.)..everyone wants in on it. You constantly find yourself being tugged back and forth by law enforcement and the underworld. And more often than not do you barely survive by the skin of your teeth. If they can’t have you, no one can. My muse then kidnaps you under the request of their Boss. What you might think is stolen freedom, may actually be your place of solace. °• 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 •° ❖ 7 • “Take my hand.”              “No!             “Look I’m not trying to ask you to marry me, I’m trying to                                                        save your life!” Your muse is being chased down by a Yakuza Group/Law Enforcement/Robbers *You pick.* and now find themselves at the top of a 10 story building. With nowhere to go you’re backed into a corner, well..more like the edge of the building. Your foot slips but you manage to grasp the side of the building, hanging on for dear life as you dangle from its height. My muse shows up just in time to be the savior you never wanted. ❖ 8 • “Did any of these a**holes mess with you?”      “No. You’ve marked your territory so hard they’re scared to even say ‘hello’.”Your muse and my muse have history together. And although rare, my muse seems to consider you close enough to protect. You accidentally wander into what is considered the baddest part of town, and before you know it there’s a turf war happening and you’re caught in the middle. There’s fists and knives flying all about, your shoes are covered in blood but for some reason you’re completely untouched. It seems like every time there’s a guy about to attack you, he stops, almost as if the entire population there knows who you are. My muse soon shows up to retrieve you. ❖ 9 • “What do you think you’re doing to him/her/them?”Instead of having a guardian angel, you have a guardian demon. His methods are often much more violent, but also much more straightforward. Something has led to your muse being under the protection of my muse. (You can pick the reasoning.) And my muse is not taking their job lightly. My muse finds you being harassed on the street by a group of thugs, and he’s not having it.  °• 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 •° ❖ 10 • “Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.”My muse finds your muse after what can only be described as a gruesome fight. Defeated bodies and blood is smeared all over the outside concrete. Something has happened that made your muse absolutely rage out (You can pick a reason.) The anger is still searing in your eyes and you’re ready to continue beating on the few bodies that are struggling to stand up. Police sirens can be heard in the distance but your muse doesn’t seem to be budging. My muse tries to calm you down and get you away from the incriminating scene you’ve left behind. Can be reversed.❖ 11 •  His eyes rose to meet mine. I was the only one left. My muse thinks his Boss, the only person he cares about, has been murdered. Your muse is hired by an Informant/Law Enforcement/Yakuza (You choose.) to deliver the news that their Boss wasn’t actually murdered, and instead is being held for ransom. When your muse shows up at the meeting place, everyone there is dead. Only my muse is left standing, and they’re covered in blood from head to toe. The scene is so gruesome you feel like throwing up. My muse starts to approach yours with no sign of consciousness in his eyes. Your muse needs to quickly relay the news before time runs out.   °• 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 •° ❖ 12 •  “Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out.”              “Oh, well if YOU don’t like it..” Your muse has grown very accustomed to banading up my muse whenever things go down. That doesn’t mean you like doing it, in fact, you’re constantly worrying every time my muse shows up at your door. This time it’s a gun wound, thankfully the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs..but you still don’t appreciate the blood staining your nice carpet. You patch my muse up for the millionth time, knowing it will be far from the last. Can be reversed. ❖ 13 •  “Who are you?..death?”             “Sometimes. Not today.”Your muse seems to have the worst of luck when it comes to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The expensive store you're in is owned by my muses Boss, and suddenly it gets robbed. Before you can process what’s happening you’re shot in the side and go down hard. It’s one thing for a Yakuza owned store to be robbed, it’s another to have a casualty. As police sirens make their way towards the crime scene, my muse approaches yours to quickly get them away from the public eye. ❖ 14 •  “I won’t let you die!”               “I don’t think that’s how that works.”Blood pours from my muses gut, soaking their body and pooling into the folds of their rumpled clothes. Your muse is minding their business when they hear multiple gunshots coming from a nearby alleyway, followed by the clamoring of feet. Your muse waits a few minutes before approaching the alleyway, only to find my muses hands slickened with blood while holding their wound. Your muse is frozen at the sight of so much blood, and against your better judgement you quickly take action to help save my muses life.   °• 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 •° ❖ 15 • “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”             “All you need to know is that I'm doing better without you.” Our muses have a troubled past between the two. They were childhood friends until your muse found out my muse was a part of the Yakuza. My muse promised to protect yours, but somewhere down the line your muse lost someone precious to them (You can pick who.) and since then blame my muse for failing to protect them. My muse approaches your muse after years of no communication, asking for you to assist them. Your muse immediately rejects the proposal, but soon finds out the person my muse is looking for is the same person who murdered your precious person from the past.❖ 16 • “Look at you sacrificing yourself for others! When did you get a heart? I had thought you lost your moral code.”Our muses have a long history together, only your muse thinks my muse died many years ago. Your muse lives in the bad part of town, and likewise gets into trouble with a deadly gang rampaging about the territory. Your muse is held at gunpoint and just when they think they’re done for, my muse steps in and deals with the consequences. Your muse is less shocked that my muse is still alive, and more shocked that they’re risking their life for someone else. Maybe they’re not the person you remember? ❖ 17 • “Is this how little you think of me? Were you ever going to tell me?”Our muses met through a mutual a few years ago, and since then have been very good friends. Only..you can’t help but think my muse is hiding something from you. You’ve realized my muse doesn’t seem to have any other friends, and only hangs out with you at places that are outside of town. You’ve only ever seen my muse with suited up men, and have seen him quite a few times getting into fancy looking cars. Whenever you ask my muse about their daily life, they brush it off and refer to it simply as ‘work’. Curiosity gets the better of your muse and you end up following my muse at the end of the night, finding you’ve somehow ended up in the backyard of what seems to be a Yakuza Headquarters? You’re stunned by your find and don’t realize the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. HIS MIND IS A DIAMOND.COLD, HARD AND BRILLLIANT.

ᴡᴀʀʙɪʀᴅ

11/12/2021 10:50 PM 

Café Meeting

Talos knows something has gone askew when he steps through the café doors and finds all manner of monsters spread across an abnormally large number of surfaces. Almost as if more shelves were built just to hold them. His tenses up immediately, and a small woman in an apron with a cute drawing of a cup on the front comes up and bows down to him. “What?” He asks the room and some of the creatures turn to stare lazily in his direction. He has never seen so many at once. All razor claws, and piercing eyes, and teeth- so many teeth. The woman asks him a question and he’s so distracted he doesn’t entirely realise it’s not in Carol’s normal dialect. It translates easily though and he realises with horror that she’s asking him if he wants a seat. A quick scan of the room shows him that there are no seats that are not within attack range but the little hands are insistent as they draw him in and before he’s quite realised what’s happening he’s been nudged into a bench set by a round table right beside one of them. The thing next to him peaks at him with one fierce eye, then stands and stretches its tawny back in an arch. Talos holds very still because it extends all its front claws in a deadly show of strength, then ambles as it pleases onto his lap to sit on his knee. “I’ve got a friend- Oh my god,” he hears Carol at the doorway, and there’s horror and a little glee and a few other emotions mixed in there that he doesn't have the presence of mind to identity. “Perhaps you could help instead of staring.” He instructs, level headed in the face of the threat. She swoops in like a crazed woman and lifts the thing off his lap. She treats it like a rag doll, tucks its hind legs up against her hip and rustled it in a way that sets the thing to make a hideous rumble. “I didn’t know,” she apologises with that same hint of amusement to her she always has. Like life can throw her any curveball and she’ll just roll with it and come back fighting. He forgives her only because she has taken the thing away and is encouraging one away from his legs. “I haven’t been to Japan in years. When it said it was a Cat Café I thought…” “That they serve cats?” Talos says the word ‘cat’ like it’s a dirty thing. The planet happily hosts an entire species that mimics the Flerken’s dangerous appearance and that the people on the planet embrace them like they’re pets only shows how dangerous humans really are. “I didn’t think they ate them, Talos,” Carol laughs and the thing in her arm tries to wiggle away so she plops it on the ground. “I thought it was just a cute name,” Happy and free the thing twines around her ankles. Talos keeps his eyes on it in case things turn ugly. Seeing his mistrust of the thing Carol quirks a smile at him. “Let’s go somewhere else.” She pulls him up to his feet and waves the small distressed aproned lady away with a few currency notes. Talos relaxes only once they’re half way down the street, lost in the push and pull of a densely populate city. “That was not the start of the holiday you promised me,” he reprimands once they are well clear of the place. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you sooner, I got caught up in a dispute between Fury and the Lorineet dignitary. But we’re on holidays. Let’s try something else. I did some preliminary research and Japan has all sorts of places I’ve never seen.” She pulls out a list from her pocket, it’s paper, like she doesn’t have a hyper advance computer on her wrist at all times. “Look, there’s a ‘Maid Café’ around the corner and it was recommended as a ‘uniquely Japanese experience’.” “Anything will be an improvement,” he concedes and she laughs and socks his shoulder lightly before leading the way. The Maid Café turns out to be strange but not untenable. There is coffee, and little cakes full of sugar, and the staff behave a little peculiarly, but the company is good, and the conversation better so he orders another coffee. It is, after all, a holiday.

Wild Child of Verushnika

11/12/2021 06:43 PM 

Observed capabilities

Observed power sheet(What  is known about her in universe.) Prehensile Tail + TongueTail: able to grasp objects, supports her weight as well as the corpse of that strange looking beast which was estimated to be a minimum of 600 pounds due to how it barrelled through a few trees.Tongue: unknown length believed to be a maximum of 15.3 meters, Strength, properties,  unknown "Void Gullet"bite force: currently unknown, but at minimum capable of biting through petrified trees much like a child bites through spongecake. Seems to be capable of digesting anything without any ill effects. "Camouflage"While in camo, she was undetectable by any means.  It is believed it is not camouflage, but something more effective.  She is capable of keeping it up even while sleeping.  One scientist claimed something which lends to the hypothesis that she could spread it to others while it is active and they are within range.

瀕死の魂

11/12/2021 05:28 PM 

Rules

Rules   1. Multi para to novella writer, rare to write 1 lines or para unless bored or is what you give me.2. Patience, I have job, studies and other beneficial things that I need to do before I can get to replies and check ups.  I'm extremely hiatus friendly.  3. Separation, Stories are stories and real life is real life 4. In combat mode, god mode is not allowed, it just simply takes the fun out of story if a character cannot take any injuries 5. I'm horrible with greetings, Yes I said it! if I do it's probably going to be really awkward lol 6. Erotic, Sexual content, Rated R work to me is selective. I do enjoy character development in a plot, I'm an experience writer so to do random plots of it is boring. 7.Character Relationships, not against it.  However, this role is very rare considering my character is a lunatic with bizarre capabilities 8. Can't get along with other writers? Not my problem. I don't play gang cyber bullying. I love everyone ♥You know that saying "Business is never personal" I follow that conduct.9.  Never the least just have fun right? 

瀕死の魂

11/12/2021 05:14 PM 

Behind The Writer

Hiiii Welcome to my page of glory and funLittle about me I'm extremely  haitus friendly but I do communicateEasy going, I work quite a lot so I try my best to get on here when I canBackground is good old Canada P.S. You can take a good guess on the beautiful islands my roots run fromI'm quite active, travel alot and so forth Just don't be a strangerCheers

ᴡᴀʀʙɪʀᴅ

11/12/2021 10:14 PM 

Falling and Landing

She hits the planet’s surface hard. Harder than normal, at least. Something in her hand pops on impact, her body ricochets across the hard rock surface, something strikes her thigh, she grits her teeth and keeps her arms locked around her cargo until she comes to a stop and the torrent of abuse ceases. She breathes through the pain, catalogues where the it’s coming from (mostly her right side) and doesn’t move because she doesn’t want to. From between her caged arms a small orange head squeezes out with a meep and Goose stretches out to lick at the point of her chin. Carol takes that as a sign to let go and forces the deadlock of her arms to relax. It hurts to move, for several reasons, but laying on her back, arms flung to the side and trying to catch her breath. Goose rests on her chest exactly where Carol had cradled her to protect her from the blast when the ship had blown, and she looks at Carol with big worried flerken eyes. “You-” Carol coughs up a lungful of dust, the flerken wobbles on her chest with each heave, but clings like a melted marshmallow and doesn’t move. With a weak hand Carol unclips a water pill, pops it in her mouth and chews until that part of her starts to feel kr- human again. She swallows the remainder to let it do its job and rests a clean hand across Goose’s soft rump. “You okay?” she asks, prioritising. Goose makes a little chirp noise, and kneads her front paws into Carol’s collar bones which she takes as an adorable yes. She lets herself lay still for a few more seconds wallowing in her own misery and the moment she starts to roll Goose hops off her chest and lands on dainty feet. Carol only makes it to sitting before she decides maybe she needs to triage herself before she can make it all the way to her feet. So she sets to that task.   Goose explores the terrain around them with twitching whiskers and cautious little steps and once Carol sends out a distress beacon she pokes and prods at her injuries. Her right side has taken the brunt of the landing, right thumb broken, something has pierced her right thigh as she was thrown across the planet’s surface but it’s been dislodged and she’s bleeding rapidly. The rest of her injuries are painful but irrelevant, stinging cuts, friction burns, maybe a broken rib. She finds her liquid bandage spray and plugs her thigh up with it. It stops the bleeding (for now) but doesn’t make it any less painful. “Didn’t miss that,” Carol tells Goose who recognises she’s been spoken to and trots over with a trill of interest. Carol plonks her left hand on the ginger menace and flattens its ears in a wobbly pat. Goose seems happy with this and lends into the affection. In truth Carol had forgotten this kind of pain, let it wash away into her past like so many other things, turns out she can remember it now it’s there and it sucks. A lot. The computer on her wrist beeps an alarm and although she doesn’t want to Carol swipes it awake to see what’s coming to kill them now. It won’t be the ship that had rammed their own, nothing could have survived that explosion. It had been fuelled by the kind of something that had sent her flying and with only the most basic of protections. She’s surprised she survived the explosion at all, yet alone re-entry on this alien planet, but she is worse for wear. The other guy must look a sight, if they made it at all. With a quirk of a smile she wiggles her fingers in Goose’s face, “There’s not going to be much left of them after that, is there?” Goose watches her fingers like she’s considering an attack and Carol snatches them away before any damage can be done. The warning is for a storm, a big storm- the kind of storm that knocks out cities if she’s reading it right. It looks like they have two hours, if the storm maintains its current speed, before the leading edge hits them. The computer offers up three viable shelters, all within two hours at a light jog- if you could jog at all. Carol’s not entirely sure she can walk, but there’s not time like the present to find out. “Alright,” Carol tells no-one and forces her protesting legs under her body and to get her feet. Her right leg spasms when she puts her weight on it, and her whole body tries to crumple back to the ground. She stumbles, nearly steps on Goose, but manages to stay upright through sheer determination (it’s luck, but she’s not letting it on). “You ready?” She asks the little ball of fur glaring at her indignant at having nearly been stepped on. She takes it as a yes because there’s not really another option and scoops the flerken up with her good hand. Ruffled Goose climbs her sleeve with sharp claws to take a perch on Carol’s shoulder, and it’s as good as anywhere but Carol still gives her a look, “Comfortable?” she checks sarcastically, and Goose looks from her perch at their new domain like a great queen mildly unconcerned by their conquered lands. There’s nothing else to say on the matter so Carol sets off at a hobble.   They make it to the shelter just as the storm front states to overtake them. The rain and wind have been whipping at them for the last twenty minutes. Carol has barely noticed except to grab Goose and hold her close so the flerken wouldn’t make a run for it into the middle of nowhere. But Goose hadn’t shown any signs of struggle, just stoically taking the rain against her orange fur and pressing in close to Carol’s chest. The shelter is a welcome sight when Carol steps in and it’s dry and empty. She drags the big door closed behind her with the last of her strength, latching it tight before letting herself sag against the thick metal. Whatever the building is for it looks like a bomb shelter dug into a cliff and with the door closed behind them the storm is a muffled rampage.   Goose meows at her in such a piteous way that Carol wakes up, only to realise she’s passed out against the door, which isn’t great. She looks down to her feet to find the ginger flerken staring at her face with big green eyes. “I’m fine,” she lies, and from the look on Goose’s face she’s not very convincing about it. What she is is exhausted, and in pain, and desperate to fall into her bed and sleep the whole incident away. It’s been so long since she felt this worn down. She pulls the bandage on her thigh out, her hand throbbing with every micromovement, she can feel the bruises that haven’t had time to form starting to come into their own, soft and tender with every step she makes to get deeper into the building and find somewhere hopefully comfortable to sleep. What she finds is an almost empty cell like bunker with something in blue written on the wall with military precision. Whatever it says she can’t read it and neither can her computer, but she assumes it says something dire. They always say something dire. She starts to shiver, which isn’t a good sign, and Goose keeps meeping at her loudly. For an animal that has barely made a noise before now Goose’s gotten pretty vocal since the crash. Carol pretends she’s been offered encouragement because no-one can contradict her, not even Goose herself. As if in response Goose sets off to explore the space they’ve been confined to and abandons her. She sits on a pile of discarded material she can’t identify (but has enough give to be more comfortable than the floor) and settles in to wait for the storm to pass and the rescue that will hopefully follow it. No-ones coming during the storm, no-one could. She repairs her leg bandage, uses up the canister, and checks her signal is still transmitting: it is. Then she has nothing to do but wait, and wait, and wait, and hope someone rescues her before she bleeds out or dies of boredom. It’s been so long, so very long since she’s felt this helpless, and the exhaustion and pain all mingle into a cocktail that pries at her defences until there are tears trickling down her nose. And it’s ridiculous, of course it’s ridiculous, she’s had so many things to cry over before. She’s faced death, and glory, and heartbreak, and betrayal and she didn’t cry and knowing that makes the tears thicker and heavier and she feels weak, stupid. Because crying doesn’t solve anything, but there’s nothing else she can do but wait. Wait for rescue, wait for her powers to kick back in, wait for the storm to intensify and rip the building down around her ears. Just wait. Alone again. She’s surprised out of her thoughts, tears still trapped in her eyelashes when Goose jumps into her lap. They stare each other down, then tentatively Carol reaches out and rubs the soft spot between Goose’s ears. For the first time ever Carol hears a flerken purr and if the tentacles hadn’t given it away as alien the purrs would. Goose leans into Carol’s hand, seeking out affection like any touch starved kitten, but her purrs reverberate through the walls of the shelter, not loud but resonating, and soothing. It’s like every muscle in her body unlocks at the sound, and Carol melts against the wall Goose purring and purring and purring. Carol can feel the purring through her muscles and bones. Then Goose leans up against her chest, wet nose against Carol’s chin, little merps that sound very uncatlike coming from deep in their throat, and Carol tilts her head to boop Goose with her own nose. She scratches her fingers through Gooses short hair, grateful, so very grateful for the company. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she says and falls asleep to warmth across her chest, and a sound like a jet engine roaring in her ears.   When she wakes up she’s on a cruiser and Goose is tucked into the curve of her right arm. “Thank you,” Carol says quietly, and Goose blinks up tiredly at her before tucking her head back down to go to sleep. Carol thinks that’s a great idea, their rescuers can wait.    




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